darling, stay with me (you're all i need)
by ipsa dixit
Summary: Everything inside of Salazar told him to not join the army, yet Godric visited him all the time and told him the opposite./for ql [american revolution!au]


_thanks to ana and vic for betaing_

 _prompts at bottom_

 _1514 words, by google docs_

…

The noble house of Slytherin did not have any reason to get involved in a war.

They had strong ties to Great Britain; almost all of their trade was sent there, and all of their money came from there. They also had no blood that they could afford to spill. Their family wasn't a house of _fighters_. They were a house of merchants, of workmen.

Except Salazar's heart wasn't in the work he was supposed to do.

He was meant to be logging the ships and their goods daily, but he would find himself looking over the hill, where soft plumes of smoke could be seen, where there were soldiers fighting for a cause they believed in.

He might've been a bit biased, wanting to going the war and fight for America's freedom; his boyfriend was in the army. Godric was probably one of the people over the hill, fighting. Godric had tried to convince him on several occasions that he should leave his family and join them, but Salazar couldn't just drop _everything_. He had a life here, a life that was good.

Of course, that's exactly why his parents didn't support the war and supported the King instead, which also didn't seem like the right choice; he was _oppressing_ the colonies.

Everything inside of Salazar told him to not join the army, yet Godric visited him all the time and told him the opposite.

That day, Godric came to him, still alive, covered in gunpowder. He planted a kiss on Salazar's lips as he approached, but Salazar immediately drew back.

"Someone could _see_ ," he hissed, looking around quickly.

"Oh, no," Godric deadpanned. They were quiet for a moment, Salazar studying Godric's face, before Godric sighed loudly. "Please come to the army," he begged, as he so often did. "You'd make a brilliant strategist. I mean, we have Rowena but she's—"

"A girl," Salazar finished, nodding.

"Besides, if you joined the army I wouldn't have to sneak away from camp to visit you," Godric reasoned.

Salazar rolled his eyes. "My parents have everything against the war. And they're right. My family has a good life under the King—"

"But lots of people's families don't, Salazar," Godric said, cutting him off. "There's bigger things than your family's riches."

Salazar rolled his eyes. "I know," he said, sighing. "But the war doesn't affect me. Why should I get involved?"

"Because, Sal, you're not the only person who exists."

With that, Godric bit his tongue, looked Salazar over, and walked away, back over the hill and back to his camp.

…

Salazar didn't expect all the traps. In retrospect, of _course_ a war camp would have a plethora of traps, but he was supposed to be _sneaky_. He wasn't supposed to be caught.

A soldier walked out, big and muscley. Salazar held his breath and closed his eyes, prepared to die at any second, but no bullet came.

Instead, a sleepy voice whispered: "Sal?"

Salazar opened his eyes, slightly amazed to still be alive. He was greeted by a familiar face. A _very_ familiar face.

"Godric?"

In the light moonlight, Salazar could see Godric close his eyes and take a deep breath. Once he opened them again, he shook his head and turned around, starting to walk away.

"Wait!" Salazar calls, probably a bit too loud. "I want to join, I want to fight."

He was probably too late; it had been three weeks since Godric made the offer, but Godric sighed.

"General Washington thinks that we'll win it soon. At Yorktown. You're a bit late." Godric's tone didn't match the words he was saying; his tone made him sound as if he _really_ wanted Salazar to join him, to be a part of his cause. Salazar _wanted_ to.

"Yorktown?" Salazar asked, a small grin spreading across his face. He just made a split second decision, a bold decision that would probably get him into trouble with his parents.

"A naval attack. We cut them off at—" Godric faltered as he realised who he was talking to.

"You'll need ships," Salazar said, giving Godric a wide grin. "I can get you plenty of those."

Godric rose an eyebrow at him and then smiled, walking closer to him. He gave Salazar a kiss on the lips, slow, and soft, and full of passion. Salazar leaned into it, feeling his neck go red at the same time. They were in a public space; what if they got caught?

Godric pulled away, a smirk on his face that made Salazar glad that he wasn't on the British side.

"I like the way you think, Slytherin," he said, giving him a pat on the shoulder that felt more like them being business partners than them being boyfriends.

"Thanks," Salazar said, running a hand through his hair. It'd be easy enough to get ships; _he_ was the one who had to log them, not his parents. "Now, get me out of this trap."

…

Stealing the ships had been easy. Getting them to York River had been easy. Finding Godric in the midst of the battle was _not._

It was also one of the stupidest things he had ever done.

There was smoke in the air, from cannons and guns, and Salazar had to cover his mouth to minimize inhalation. Running from bullets, Salazar nearly tripped over something. His breath hitched when he realised that it was a dead body. He quickly got over the shock, though, and picked up the gun the dead man was no longer using, feeling much safer.

He continued to walk into the battle until he spotted Godric a feet yards away, manning a cannon. He took a moment to appreciate the way Godric looked while shooting the cannon at the enemy lines: confident, standing tall, grinning as if his life had lead up to that moment.

"Take it away!" Salazar could hear Godric shout as he walked into earshot.

"Surprise," Salazar said, moving in close to Godric, in order to avoid a bullet whizzing past his ear.

"Who—" Godric paused, in shock, as he turned to see Salazar. Salazar pushed him hard as another bullet came their way. "You're an _idiot_ , Sal," he said when he regained his posture.

"You're welcome," Salazar said, instead of answering his question. He gave him a winning smile. "I came to fight." Salazar raised his gun and turned to the other side. He cocked the gun, not entirely sure what he was doing, but he pulled the trigger anyway, staggering back as it fired. "See?" he said meekly. He felt a bit shaken, but he liked it. _Don't try to fight this feeling_ , he told himself, grinning.

Godric picked up another cannonball and placed it into the cannon, lighting it on fire. It fired, and Salazar had to hold onto Godric in order to not fall down; he was _not_ used to the shaking power of the cannons.

"You're an idiot," Godric repeated, but there was a small smile on his face.

Salazar fired another bullet into the other side, not really paying attention to where he was firing. Godric laughed, and Salazar had to join in. Godric was right all along; fighting felt _great_.

They both laughed, and neither of them saw the bullet go into Godric, until he fell to the ground, blood pouring out of his torso.

The smile was wiped off of Salazar's face immediately.

"No," he said, throwing his stolen gun onto the floor and leaning down next to Godric. "What do I do?"

Salazar wasn't a _soldier_. He had no _idea_ what he was doing.

And Godric was dying.

"God, I don't know? Heal me?" Godric was looking at his hands, which were covered in his own blood. Salazar tried to put pressure on the wound, but he could feel Godric's heartbeat at the same time, which was fading, fast.

"Hey," Salazar said, pressing down, "promise me that you won't die yet."

"I promise," Godric said, but he shook his head a moment later. "I'm going to _die_."

"No, you're not," Salazar said, trying to put more pressure on it, but trying not to hurt him.

"Everyone and everything has a time to die, Sal. This is mine."

Godric was just going to give up? After fighting for his nation to start, he wasn't even going to fight for his own _life_?

"I hate you," Salazar said, laughing nervously. It seemed almost laughable that Godric was giving up.

"I love you," Godric countered. "I hope you don't mind."

Salazar pressed a kiss to Godric's lips, giving him a silent answer. The war seemed to slow around them, but for Salazar, they were the only ones existing.

Godric went limp mid-kiss.

"What fresh hell is this?" Salazar said, putting Godric down on the ground. There was an emptiness in him that felt as if was settling, ready to stay there.

Across the field, a man in a redcoat stood on a parapet, waving a white flag, signifying Britain's surrender, signifying America's freedom.

Salazar didn't care anymore. He didn't have any reason to want freedom.

…

 _for:_

 _quidditch league, whining warriors, chaser 2 [establishment of a democracy; bold, family, decision]_

 _writing club [character appreciation - write about a fight; disney - aladdin; showtime - no one mourns the wicked - 'take it away'; lyric alley - my head is spinning and it won't bail out; year in entertainment - 'don't try to fight this feeling'; jenny's quotes - 'what fresh hell is this?']_

 _assignment 3 [mythology - ares - write a fic set in wartime]_

 _scavenger hunt [au outside of wizarding world]_

 _resolutions [founders era]_

 _insane house comp [godricsalazar]_

 _library lovers [sabriel - 'i love you. i hope you don't mind'; 'everyone and everything has a time to die'; missing a loved one]_

 _serpent day [cat-eyed snake - salazar slytherin]_

 _gobstones [green stone - courage; america; godric gryffindor; 'i promise']_


End file.
